


Tim's Bodyguard

by Spnfandom8



Category: Batman - Fandom, NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26938762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spnfandom8/pseuds/Spnfandom8
Summary: "Next thing you know Batman will be coming through the window!" Tony exclaims, his voice tinted with hysteria, and I hold back the laugh that wants to escape my chest, knowing how very likely it is that Batman will in fact, be coming through that window.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! :)

“This is serious Tim, someone put a hit out on you, to the League of Assassins. The Boss already hired a bodyguard, one of the best, he’ll be here tomorrow, until then we stick together.” Abby says, making me finally look up from the report I was writing.   
“I do not need a bodyguard, and I appreciate you all wanting to keep me safe, but you don’t need to, i’ll be fine” I tell her, knowing it probably won’t do much, but needing to try nonetheless.   
I need to take care of this, and being smothered by my team, and apparently a bodyguard isn’t going to work, I need to take care of the guy who put out the bounty for me, and make him retract it.   
The only reason i’m not dead already is because the league thinks that they were hired to take out a mid-level tech from NCIS, and they, thankfully, haven’t figured out that the mid-level tech from NCIS is actually an alias of Timothy Drake-Wayne, aka the previous Robin, aka Red Robin, aka son of Batman. If they knew all of that, they would have tried a lot harder to kill me, and they would have done it a lot sooner.   
I don’t want to have to bring my family in on this, and it can be taken care of relatively easily, or it would, if I wasn’t being smothered by my team.   
The only people currently not trying to do so are Ducky and Palmer, and that’s because they are working on finishing up the bodies from a few different cases, not giving them the time to do so.   
“Yes you do” Gibbs says as he walks back into the bullpen, coffee in hand.   
“I really don’t, i’ll be fine. I have a few contacts that can help me sort it out. Easy peasy.” I tell them, now desperate for them to leave me alone.   
“What the fuck? The League of Assassins is not ‘easy peasy’ and how do you have ‘contacts’ that can help you take care of it? And since when are you so nonchalant about a bunch of people trying to kill you?” Tony asks, getting more and more angry the longer he talks.  
“I am not nonchalant about people trying to kill me, I am simply being logical and calm about it. I have a few contacts from my time in the GCPD, who have worked more than a few cases involving the League, cases that gave them insight, and occasionally undercover agents. I know the risks, I know how much danger I am in, I am choosing to react calmly and rationally, instead of how you seem to be reacting, which is to run around like a chicken without a head. Odd seeing as you are the more experienced field agent.” I tell him, keeping my voice even the whole time, a blank look on my face.   
“You don’t have to be an asshole just because someone put a hit out on you, you know that right?” Tony asks pissily, put out that I was rude.   
I can hear Alfred’s voice in my head urging me to apologise for insulting his ability as an agent, especially because my reaction is, admittedly, the odd one.  
I ignore it, choosing instead to focus on whatever news the agent that’s walking down the stairs has. The nervousness on his face as well as his body language giving away the fact that he does in fact have something to tell us.   
“Sir?” he says, approaching Gibbs’s desk.   
Gibbs simply looks up with an expectant look on his face, the rest of us having stopped talking to listen to what the agent has to say.  
“The bodyguard that was hired just arrived, he said that his previous job ended earlier than expected.” the agent says, constantly looking between Gibbs’s face and the floor.   
“Is someone taking him up?” Gibbs asks   
“Yes, he should be here any minute” the agent says, walking quickly away when Gibbs turns away from him, effectively dismissing him.   
I groan internally as I think of all the time that I would have had to get away from my team before tomorrow, time that is now going to be spent trying to lose a bodyguard, without alerting my team to the fact that I had gotten rid of him.   
“How’s my favorite replacement doing?” I hear a very familiar voice ask, fake cheer infused in every syllable.   
“Fucking hell” I mutter, spinning my chair around to look at my older brother, who is sporting his usual attire, black jeans, tee-shirt, brown leather jacket, two guns strapped to his thighs, two around his ribs, one on his ankle, one on his hip, and a multitude of other weapons and explosives stashed all over his body.   
“I didn’t realise you were still working as a bodyguard” I say, raising an eyebrow as he perches on the edge of my desk, completely ignoring the rest of my team.   
“I took a break, then I decided to come back, only then I came across your file, couldn’t pass that up” he says, continuing with the fake cheer and upbeat personality, although he’s likely to drop it soon.   
“Sure” I mutter, knowing that one of them must have caught wind of the League having my alias as a target, and the best person to go under for this job is Jason. He’s been under in this agency quite a few times, and a few more just for fun, and he’s the least recognisable one of them, considering everyone thinks he’s still dead.   
It would be easy for him to get the job because he knows, and has saved the owner more than a few times, and when he wants a job, Johnny lets him take a look through the jobs he has to assign, and pick one that he wants.   
All they had to do was point my boss in the direction of that security company, which isn’t hard, seeing as they are highly recommended and not overly expensive, and then let Jason go see Johnny about a job.   
“Do you know him?” Abby asks, confusion clear on her face, even as she checks him out.   
“Yes, me and Jason have known each other since we were kids” I say, signing to him behind my desk to introduce himself, not in sign language though, in a language that Bruce and Dick created, and the rest of us have added to over the years. It’s still a bit rough, but it’s better than people knowing what we’re talking about.   
“My name is Jason Cross, I was hired to be Tim’s bodyguard until the League eases off. If this job proves to be too much for just me to take care of I have a few coworkers on standby. I was told that you are all going to be sticking close to him for the time being, that’s fine by me, but you don’t get to tell me what to do, and you stay out of my business, my work, and all the other fun little things cops like to dig into. I was hired to protect him, and I don’t need a cop with a hero complex to fuck that up.” Jason says, starting off good and then devolving the longer he talks.   
“Jesus Jason, really?” I ask, wondering why he felt the need to add that part.   
“This is my job, I understand that you are cops, but I was hired to make sure he doesn’t die, nobody on my watch has yet, and it would be a shame for that to change. Stay out of my way, and I have first say when it comes to safety precautions.” Jason says, and I understand that this ‘apology’ of sorts is him not wanting me to be pissy while he’s stuck to my side.   
“Tony” Tony introduces a moment later.   
“Abby”   
“Gibb’s”   
“Ziva”   
One by one they all introduce themselves, although Ziva has this look on her face, like she’s trying to figure out who Jason is.   
“Great, let’s get the fuck out of here then” Jason says, twirling his finger in a circle as he finally lets a scowl settle on his face.  
“There he is” I mutter, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me.   
“So, how come you were sent and not any of the others?” I ask, feeling him out, trying to figure out if the coworkers he has on standby are the rest of my brothers or actual coworkers.   
“I get the pick of cases, I also work alone, if the job permits. This one should, I was just letting you know ahead of time that I have backup if I need it, cause I'm nice like that.” he says, giving me nothing.   
I glare at him, knowing that he knows what I want to know.   
“Goldie and the Demon are on standby” he says suddenly, in Romanian.   
“Was that so hard?” I ask back, also using Romanian.   
“No it wasn’t, I just like fucking with you” he says, reverting back to english.   
“Asshole” I mutter, stuffing a few files into my bag as I do so.   
“Where are you living?” he asks a few moments later, once everyone has packed their things and boarded the elevator.   
“Apartment a few miles away” I tell him.   
“Are all these people even going to fit in your apartment?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.   
“I changed apartments since the last time you were down, Alf insisted that I was trying to get myself hurt living there, deemed it unworthy.” I tell him, remembering the scornful looks the butler sent my walls when he last came by for a visit.   
“Where are you living now?” he asks, continuing the conversation.   
“Penthouse” I tell him, knowing that he’s just gathering information so that if someone does actually come after me, it’s easier to take care of.   
“Okay, send me the address, i’ll meet you there” he says as we leave the building, him going to his motorcycle, and me to my car.   
“You guys can just follow” I tell my team, heading to my car as I send out text him my address.   
I finally get inside my car, tinted windows and all, before I drop my head into my chest, pinching the bridge of my nose as I push back waves of exhaustion.   
It’s been too many days since i’ve last slept, but I was busy with a case for B, the case I was on with the team, and trying to get the League off my back.   
Today was the first day that any of them realised that someone was trying to kill me, and I don’t know how long my family was aware of the threat, but i’ve known for roughly five days, and i’ve been up a bit longer than that, having been busy with writing a report when someone first took a shot at me through my window, which was what alerted me to the hit having been placed.   
They would have all been blissfully unaware of the threat to my life, if it wasn’t for the assassin who tried to kill me with throwing knives on the way to a crime scene this morning, like as if that was the most reliable weapon they could find.   
Either way, now my family and my team know about the hit, and I want them to leave me alone to take care of it, instead they are going to ‘protect me’ with their smothering nearness and arguments when I tell them to leave me alone.  
I hear a horn blare a few feet to my right and it’s only then that I realise that everyone is waiting for me to leave the lot before they do.  
So it’s with a heavy sigh that I turn the key, pulling out onto the main road as I wince at the potholes I can't avoid, aggravating my cracked ribs.   
A few turns later and I can see my building, which is, of course, when a truck slams into the side of my car, sending the car spinning out, and my head into the glass of my window.   
I blink my eyes as blood flows from the gash on the side of my head, running into my eye and down my face, hot and stinging as it runs over other cuts.   
I feel my cracked ribs break and my shoulder wrench out of place as i’m thrown from one side of my seat to the other.   
The breath is knocked out of my lungs by the steering wheel, and I can feel the sharp cut of my door, having been previously mangled by the truck that slammed into it, as my leg is thrown against it, slicing a deep cut along the outside of my thigh.   
I blink away the dizziness and the pain as my car finally stops moving, I watch through the cracked windshield as Jason drags the driver of the truck out of his window, throwing punches as he does so, before shooting him in both knees, point blank, and searching him for weapons.   
I listen to the guy scream as Jason throws him to the ground, the guys gun in hand, before walking away from him and towards me, a furious look on his face.   
“Fucking hell, you alright Tim?” he asks as he approaches my totalled car, wrenching open the mangled door and scanning me for injuries as he goes.   
“I’m fine” I mutter, trying to clear my head as he leans over and unbuckles me, leaving me in the seat as my team screeches into the lot that I spun into when I was hit, jumping out of their cars and rushing over to check on me.   
As soon as Gibbs sees that i’m talking, he turns, moving his attention to the screaming man who hit me, a curious look on his face as he turns back towards us.   
“I shot him in the knees” Jason clarifies.   
“I’ll call this in” Gibbs says as Jason finishes checking me over for major injuries, murmuring a quick ‘sorry’ when he pokes my ribs, making me hiss out a breath.   
“Okay, let’s get you to a car, and then your apartment. I can clean you up there” Jason says, rolling his eyes as my team begins to loudly protest, saying that I need a hospital.   
“I’m fine, Jay can patch me up” I tell them, pushing off my seat and turning to throw my legs out the side of the car, wincing when a shot of pain flashes through my leg as well as my ribs, my head, and my shoulder.   
“A little help Jay” I ask, bringing my hand up to wipe some blood from my eye, only to have it replaced moments later.  
He moves into the side of my body that has the cut in my thigh, not the one with the dislocated shoulder. Now while I do prefer that he didn't try to hold me up by my dislocated shoulder, my bleeding thigh being pressed into the rough material of his pants isn't much better.   
I wince as he levers me up from the totalled car, gritting my teeth as his jeans scrape against my gash. A few steps later though, I find my feet no longer on the ground.   
“I can walk” I tell Jason pissily, narrowing my eyes as he carries me to Tony’s car.   
“Not very well” he replies simply, depositing me in the passenger seat and checking me over once more.   
Then he moves around the side of the car and levels a glare at Tony, leaning down and growling something into his ear before he walks back to his bike, leaving Tony looking pale as he slides into the driver’s seat.   
Normally I would ask what Jason said, but right now I'm too focussed on not passing out from blood loss and trying to block my pain, which, if I felt in full force right now, would also cause me to pass out.   
We arrive at my apartment building a few minutes later, with Abby in the backseat, and Gibbs and Ziva waiting for the police to arrive at the scene.   
Jason pulls up behind us moments later, and it's then that I realise that it was his motorcycle that I could hear rumbling closely behind us the while time.   
Jason hops off the bike and makes his way around to my side of the car, looking down at me contemplatively for a moment before he bends over, pulling me from the car.   
I growl upon realising that Jason has apparently given up completely on letting me try to walk, and simply pulls me into his chest and carries me into the building, telling Abby to pull my keys from my pocket and get the door.   
A few moments later we are in the elevator, headed to the top floor.   
“Fuck, I thought with your, you know, smallness, you would be lighter” Jason snarks as we stand in the elevator, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.   
“Or maybe you just aren’t as built as you think you are” I snipe back, chuckling as he glares down at me.   
“Or maybe you just aren’t in peak condition anymore” he says back   
“Or maybe i’m not as small as everyone would like to believe” I tell him, letting my head dangle over his arm as I laugh, too tired to hold it up anymore.  
“Do you wanna break your neck?” Jason asks grumpily as he uses the arm around my shoulders to push my head back until it's resting on his shoulder, no longer in danger of breaking if he knocks into anything.   
“Aw, you do care” I murmur, giggling as I find myself floating more than staying grounded. I would try to stop myself, but floating is nice, and I think i'd like to stay like this for a little longer.   
“Fuck you” he says, although the fact that there isn’t any heat behind his words defeats the purpose of them.   
His glare paired with his words make my giggles get more and more hysterical, until they fade into nothingness alongside me.


	2. Chapter 2

Jason POV 

I sigh as he finally passes out, his weight going limp in my arms.   
“How well do you two know each other?” the guy who drove the car here asks.   
“We’ve known each other since we were kids, a few years ago we stopped trying to kill each other, and only recently did we decide to try being friends” brothers   
I get away from the awful elevator music when the doors finally open, revealing Tim's apartment.   
“Clear the couch” I tell the chatty one when he opens his mouth again.   
A few moments later I lay Tim down on his couch, holding back a wince as his blood starts soaking into it. I know that head wounds bleed a lot, but he looks like shit, and before he let himself pass out, probably felt like it too.   
“Have any of you been here before?” I ask   
“Um, no” the guy says, and the goth agrees with him.   
“Make sure he doesn’t die, i’m gonna go find a first aid kit” I tell them, knowing that his first aid kits will have enough supplies to patch him up.   
I look through the kitchen, bathroom, living room and study before I find it in one of the drawers in his room.   
By the time I make it back to the living room, the boss man, and the woman who I ran into more than a few times on one of my cases, although she doesn’t seem to recognise me, are there, looking at Tim with concern.   
“Move” I growl lowly, my eyebrows furrowing as I catch sight of Tim once more, bruised, bloody, and broken.   
I prioritize, quickly pulling out and cleaning a needle, thread, and my hands, and cut his pants off above the gash, before pouring the sterilizing solution over his thigh, happy that he’s passed out for this.   
I get started, stitching the jagged edges of the skin together, keeping focussed until I reach the end, tie the stitch off and then tape a sterile bandage over it before moving onto the next more important injury, his head.   
Turns out he only needs a few stitches there, and I clean the blood from his eye before moving on, knowing that if I don’t it’ll just dry over his eye, essentially glueing it shut.   
“I thought you were a bodyguard?” Tony asks suspiciously as I move onto his shoulder.   
“I am” I mutter, beckoning Ziva over, knowing that she has the skills needed to help me with this.   
“Brace his shoulder for me” I tell her, waiting until she climbs behind him on the couch and braces his shoulder so that I can pop it into place.   
“3, 2, 1” I count down before wrenching it back into place, feeling sympathetic as I hear the familiar pop, knowing that it’ll hurt like a fucking bitch when he wakes up.   
“Thanks” I mutter, moving on to his ribs as she climbs off the couch.  
I make sure to watch out for his other injuries as I lever him up and into a sitting position, an ace bandage in my hand as I probe his ribs gently, feeling around for which ones are broken, cracked, or just bruised, and then tip him forward onto my shoulder as I wrap them.   
A few minutes later he’s all patched up and still passed out, so I clean up the supplies that I used before washing my hands and putting it back where I found it, a sticky note of what has to be replaced stuck to the top of it.   
I walk back into the room a minute later, not wanting to deal with the questions that are sure to come from something like this, not to mention that they know that me and Tim know each other.   
“Is he gonna be okay?” the guy who drove asks   
“What’s your name?” I ask, seeing as I wasn’t really paying attention when they told me before.   
“Tony, is he gonna be okay?” he asks again.   
“Do I look like a fuckin doctor?” I snark, rolling my eyes when his snap towards Tim.   
“He’ll be fine, we’ve dealt with worse” we’ve done worse to each other  
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, obviously upset.   
“It means that he’s gonna be fine, it means that you need to calm the fuck down and give me a fucking minute to think” I snap, trying to hold a conversation and debate with myself whether or not this merits a call to Dickie or Damian.   
“What is there to think about? The guy you were hired to protect just got fucking t-boned by a truck and you shot the guys kneecaps. You apparently have a complicated past with Tim, who is now unconscious. I don't really understand what it is you need to think about at this moment.” Tony says, apparently annoyed, with me or the situation, I'm not sure.   
“I need to think about whether or not I need to bring in my coworkers. I need to think about whether or not I want to move Tim to a safer location, or wait for him to be able to tell me when something is gonna injure him further. I need to think about what to do about the people trying to kill him. I need to think about the possible repercussions of shooting an unarmed man in front of a bunch of cops. Twice. I have a lot to decide, so shut the fuck up and let me deal with it.” I snap, wondering how my brother has the patience to deal with this guys mouth all the time, at least without punching him every once in a while.   
“Fine, but you have a lot of explaining to do” the guy mutters, making my now boiling temper flare.   
“I don’t have to explain anything to you. I don’t owe you shit, and you have nothing that makes me even think I could trust you with any information. All i’ve seen from you so far is an unprofessional asshole who thinks he’s god’s gift to mankind, news flash buddy, god isn’t real, and when you die, there is a whole lot of nothing to greet you, and it sucks. So shut the fuck up and let me fucking think” I snarl at the man, watching on with satisfaction as he recoils from me, a surprised look on his face.   
“You don’t need to run so hot all the time Jase” I hear a small voice murmur from behind me, making me turn back so that i’m facing him, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut before attempting to open them.   
“And no, we don’t need to move to a more secure location, Alfred wasn’t the only one dissatisfied with the safety precautions in my old apartment” Tim says quietly, lifting his uninjured arm to probe at the bandage on his hairline.   
“Stop that” I reprimand, pushing his hand away from the bandage.   
“B?” I ask, pretty sure what he’s trying to tell me, but wanting to double check just in case my now concussed brother isn’t thinking too clearly.   
“Yeah” he answers before trying to sit up.   
“Cut that shit out, will you?” I say, pushing gently down on his shoulder to make him lay back down.   
“Stay” I tell him as I stand up, walking into his bathroom and retrieving the painkillers I found in there while I was looking for the first aid kit, shaking two out into my hand before I grab him a glass of water from the kitchen.   
“I thought I told you to stay?” I ask as I re-enter the living room, finding him sitting up on the couch, his face pale and his eyes shut against the harsh light.   
I easily twist the knob on the wall, turning the lights down to a more ‘hangover’ type setting before I walk over to him.   
“Take these” I tell him, handing him the water and the pills with a determined expression on my face, knowing that it will take more than telling him to make him take the pills.   
“No” he says stubbornly.   
“Yes, your body is shot, and I don’t know when you last slept, although from the bags you tried to cover up, i’m gonna go with about five or six days. You need to rest, and you won’t unless you have some help” I tell him, shaking the pills in my hand to enunciate ‘help’   
“Yes I will, you just said I haven’t slept in days, I don’t need meds to sleep” he argues.   
“Bullshit. You might look like your sleeping, but I know that the most you’ll do is that meditating shit. You need proper rest, and like hell am I telling Goldie or B that you fucking died under my care. I don’t need that shit on my hands.” I tell him, shuddering at the thought of telling Dick and Bruce that Tim is dead, because that really sounds like it would go over well.   
“Or maybe you would miss me, I mean, you never know, we learn new things every day, your new thing might be that you would miss me if I happened to die” he says, his eyes glassy with pain, yet somehow still shining with amusement.   
“Yeah, maybe I would” I concede, watching the surprise register on his face, giving me the opening to push the pills into his hand.   
“Drink” I mutter, thrusting the glass of water into his hands after he puts the pills in his mouth.   
He sticks his tongue out at me after he drinks the glass of water, letting me check to make sure he actually took them, before dropping his head back against the couch.   
“Those should only take a few minutes to kick in” I say, standing up so that I can tip him back over to laying on the couch.   
“Blanket?” I ask a moment later, after i’ve propped his head up on a pillow.   
“Please” he murmurs, already feeling the effects of the pills.   
“Fucking fuzzy pills” he mutters as I walk away, making me laugh.   
Fucking fuzzy pills is right, hard as hell to think straight when I take them, they make me constantly tired, and I almost always have nightmares when I take them, the pills forcing me into a deep enough sleep that I dream, the only good thing about them is that I feel more like i’m floating inside my body instead of inhabiting it, pain can’t reach me and neither can anything else, except the nightmares. Always the fucking nightmares.   
I hesitate then, wondering if the reason Tim didn’t want to take the pills would be because of nightmares, and then quickly dismiss the thought, if they were a problem, he wouldn’t have given in and taken the pills. Unless he was hurting more than he was letting on, more than I could infer from his injuries.   
I shake my head then, dispersing the unwanted thoughts and nabbing a blanket off Tim’s bed before heading back into the living room.   
I ignore the rest of his team as I drape the blanket over his now sleeping form before I flop into the cushy chair next to the couch, staying in reaching distance in case anything happens.   
I pull my phone out a moment later, hesitating a moment before answering the call.   
“Yeah?” I say, wondering what exactly Dickie is calling me about.   
“Is Tim okay?” he asks, his voice clueing me in to just how much he’s worrying right now.   
“He’ll be fine, I patched him up and made him take some painkillers” I tell him   
“Good, it shouldn’t take too long to get them off his back, it’s just a process. Are you and him gonna be okay until tomorrow? The hit should be cancelled by then.” Dick says, moving on once he knows that one of his chicks is alright, seeing as he’s apparently taken to mother henning the three of us, like we’re his children, not his brothers.   
“Yeah, his team is apparently sticking around for the night, if the looks they have been shooting me all afternoon are saying anything, but I solemnly swear not to kill anyone until I am no longer in the company of cops” I tell him teasingly, chuckling when he ‘really Jay’s’ me.   
“See you tomorrow, I need to order some dinner, i’m fucking hungry” I tell him, already pulling up a mental list of all the nearest chinese food places that won’t give me food poisoning.

About an hour later me and Tim’s team are sitting around his living room in semi-awkward silence, the small talk having vanished, mostly due to my neglect to actually participate.   
The food has been eaten, and I was nice enough to order enough for everyone, although not nice enough to pay for everyone.   
I have a bowl of half melted ice-cream in my lap and my eyes straying from window to window to door, keeping an eye out for snipers or someone trying to enter the apartment.   
I snap my head to the side though when I hear a small whimper come from Tim, cursing as his face contorts in agony, his lips moving silently as he starts to move around, and I shoot up from my seat, knowing that if he doesn’t stay still he’ll just hurt himself more than he already has.   
“Fucking hell, Tim, wake up” I say, nudging his shoulder a few times with no response as his nightmare escalates.   
“What’s wrong” Tony asks   
“Nightmare” I mutter, as Tim starts to talk out loud, begging for someone to stop.   
“Please, stop, hurts. Hurts. Hurts. Help, please, Bruce, Bruce! Pleasepleaseplease helpme!” he calls his voice getting louder and more desperate the longer the nightmare goes on, and nothing that i’m doing is waking him up.   
It’s when he starts to thrash around that I give in, lifting his torso off the couch before I slide in behind him, locking my arms around his torso and trapping his arms, one leg bracing me against the couch as the other one comes up to pin Tim’s down.   
He fights against me, tears streaming down his face as he begins to scream.   
“Come on Timmy, wake up, you’re going to be fine, it’s a nightmare” I murmur in his ear as his head slams back into my shoulder and stays there, like as if his head was strapped to a table.   
He continues to thrash and scream for minutes after that, and I continue to talk to him, trying to make him wake up, or at least calm down. I let out a sigh of relief when the tension starts to ease from his body, relaxing to the point that he’s laying limp against me, his lips moving for a few moments longer before he fully comes out of the nightmare.   
I wait a few moments before I drop my leg to the ground off the side of the couch and pull the arm that’s trapped between his now limp body and the couch free, laying it across his shoulder as I bring my hand up to run it through his now sweaty hair.   
I finally let my own body relax, keeping one arm secured around him as I drop my head onto his shoulder, still murmuring soft words of comfort, hoping to keep him calm.   
A few minutes later I try to slide out from underneath him, but hesitate when he whimpers, his hand tightening it’s hold on my forearm.   
So instead I simply re-settle, not willing to have him go into another nightmare because of me.   
I look up a few moments later, only to see the stricken faces of his team, all of them hovering around me and him, obviously unsure about how to react to what just happened.   
“What? Have you never seen a nightmare?” I ask, my voice rough with annoyance.   
“Not like that” Tony murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing as his gaze stays stuck to Tim.   
“It’s the drugs, he couldn’t wake up like he usually would, and I couldn’t let him thrash around like that, he would have hurt himself.” I tell them.   
“Who was he asking to help him?” Abby asks hesitantly, her voice filled with concern.   
“Nobody” I answer shortly, my annoyance spiking.   
“Come on Jay, I wouldn’t say nobody” I hear a familiar voice say as they swing into the apartment through the window.   
“Wingnut” I greet my older brother, who apparently decided that the best way to come here would be in costume.   
“How’s he doing?” he asks as he makes his way over to us, crouching down in front of the couch and running his hand through Tim’s hair, a concerned look on his face as he does so.   
“He’s gonna be fine, had a nightmare” I tell him   
“That’s what I was worried about, but if he took the meds I figured you either shoved them down his throat, he was hurting too much to worry about nightmares, or he was too tired and in pain to think through the repercussions.” Dick says, sliding down so that he’s sitting cross legged in front of the couch, his hand sliding down to rest on top Tim’s hand, the one that’s still gripping my forearm, and will probably leave marks.   
“Was it bad?” he asks after a moment.   
“He was screaming for a few minutes, was screaming for Bruce to help him.” I tell him, my eyes bouncing between him and the now shell shocked team standing behind me, who are due to interrupt us in less than a minute now.   
“I think he was having a nightmare about his time with the Joker” I tell him in romanian, not wanting to let his team hear something like that.   
Dick nods, standing up and turning around to face Tim’s team, who are now shaking off their shock.   
“Nightwing” Tony mutters  
“Yep” Dick answers   
“How are you here? How do you know Tim? Why are you here?” Tony asks rapid fire   
“I’m here because I came here, I’ve known Tim since we were kids. I am here because I wanted to tell you that the guy who put the hit out on Tim has retracted it, and he is no longer in danger of psychopathic assassins, and because I wanted to check on him.” Dick says, answering all of his questions without giving away anything they couldn’t figure out on their own.   
“Tt- how is Drake?” I hear Damian ask, just as he slips through the window, moving silently to stand with Nightwing.   
“Robin, because why not? You know, next thing you know Batman will be coming through the window” Tony says, slightly hysterically, and I hold back the laugh that wants to escape my throat, knowing that it is very likely that Batman will be coming through the window.   
“He’s fine kid” I mutter, answering Damians question.   
“Good” he says resolutely, so much different than his reaction would have been two years ago.   
All of us have grown closer, it took working through a lot of our shit, but we did it, and we are more like a family than we ever were before, and even though Bruce is still a emotionally constipated asshole most of the time, we’ve worked through enough of our shit to be able to admit that we are family, that they are my brothers and that he’s my dad.   
“So i’m guessing that the people that Tim knew, that could help him take care of his problem, are you? A bodyguard and two vigilantes?” Abby says, speaking up for the first time since Dick swept into the apartment.   
“Yep” Dick answers, even though we all know he was going to try to fix it himself, without telling anyone that the League of fucking Assassins was hired to kill his current alias.   
“How exactly did you meet?” Ziva asks   
“School” Dick lies smoothly, grinning to throw them off guard.  
I tense up when Tim shifts in my arms, relaxing again when I realise that he was just moving around slightly to get comfortable.   
“I don’t think you are going anywhere Jaybird” Dick says with a laugh when he glances back at us.   
“Yeah, I figured that much” I answer, and with all the heat that I tried to inject in my tone, very little of it actually makes it out of my mouth.   
I grin a moment later when I see a black shadow glide through the front door and around the outskirts of the dimly lighted room, scaring the shit out of all of the non-bats when he melts from the shadows and to the back of the couch.   
“Hey dad” Dick and I chorus, while an offbeat “father” is heard from Damian.   
He doesn’t say anything, simply resting his hand on Tim’s forehead, his body tensing slightly when he takes in the heat coming off of it.   
“He’s gonna be fine, just had a nightmare and he’s basically laying on me. He’s only running a slight fever, the rest of it is from exertion and my body heat” I tell him, reassuring him that Tim isn’t running a super high fever.   
“Injuries?” he asks in his growling Batman voice   
“Nothing too major, he should make a full recovery, I would still have Doc Thompkins check him out, rather be safe than infected” I tell him, knowing that Tim will protest seeing her, and that all of us have and would do the same thing, but that technically with injuries like Tim’s, with the quantity and quality, he should let her check him out.   
“Are you guys, brothers? And is he your dad?” Abby asks after a beat of silence, apparently having been thinking through the way we greeted B.   
“Yes” B says, his attention staying fixed on Tim.   
“Well who knew Batman was a-” Tony’s words get cut off by Tim’s eyes fluttering open, making everyone freeze.   
His hand tightens over my arm as his gaze slowly flickers from one member of his family to another before landing on Bruce.   
“Dad” he murmurs, obviously out of it, before his eyelids flutter closed again, and little does he know that he just revealed a huge secret, he’s a part of our family.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

“Excuse me, What?!” Tony asks loudly, making me glare at him when Tim flinches at the noise.   
“You heard him” Damian says frostily, apparently deciding that balls to the wall is the best approach.   
“Yeah, I heard him, he just called Batman his dad!” Tony says, keeping his voice down, but he’s still obviously freaking out at this news.   
“What exactly is confusing you?” Bruce asks rudely, apparently deciding that Damians approach was a good one.   
“The fact that my nerdy and quirky coworker is apparently the son of fucking Batman, and that makes all of you his brothers and what exactly does that make him?” Tony asks, his voice growing more frantic as he sweeps his hand in Tim's general direction.   
“It makes him Tim McGee, it makes him the same guy that you know, just with a past.” I say testily, hoping to make the guy stop freaking out, because it’s bringing up the tension of the room, which isn’t good for me or for Tim.   
“Jesus christ” Tony mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose as he finally quiets.   
“I know you” I hear Ziva say quietly from a few feet away, and I turn my head to see that she’s looking at me.   
“I thought you would have figured that out sooner, I mean, it hasn’t been that long, has it?” I ask, tilting my head to the side and waiting for her to figure out exactly where she knows me from.   
“Berlin, Saudi Arabia, Switzerland” she says, thinking through them before she speaks, making a slow smile spread across my face.   
“Bingo, I recognised you right off the bat, but you seemed to be struggling with my revolving style” I tell her, remembering the different aliases I had for all the jobs I had worked that I ran into her on.   
“I am guessing that this is your actual style?” she asks, looking me over with a critical eye.   
“Right again” I mutter.   
“Great, now that that’s settled, how about we focus on the real problems?” Gibbs says, speaking up.   
“The real problems being?” I ask sardonically.   
“The fact that my subordinate apparently has an entire secret life that he kept from me” he says angrily.   
“How about you calm the fuck down. Do you honestly expect that my normal ass brother was just going to apply to be a cop, and what, jot down that oh, his family just happen to be vigilantes that are wanted across the world for various ‘crimes’? Is that seriously what you expected? And I thought you were the smart one” I mutter, my temper flaring as he tells me that he really expected Tim to just tell him about something of this magnitude, that could get tons of people, including him, injured or killed, and has the potential to expose all of us. Which would render us useless and vulnerable, and leave him without a job or anything, aside from us, to fall back on.   
I open my mouth to continue when I feel an armoured hand fall onto my shoulder, making my anger spike, and then quickly quell, leaving me glaring at the people that are now on the other side of the room, leaving a palpable distance between us and them, creating a more solid us and them.   
“I understand your anger about secrets being kept from you, but these are not only his secrets to spill, and he knows that. He is my son, but I never wanted that to affect his ability to live his life the way he wants to, and him keeping secrets is so that it doesn’t. He’s had to deal with more shit in his life than you will ever be able to comprehend, and if you turn your backs on him, you will regret it, because he is loyal, and he trusts you, which again, is more important than you will ever comprehend. Just know, that if he does happen to get hurt under your direction, you will have us to deal with.” B says ominously, striding to the window and slipping effortlessly out of it, Nightwing and Robin following closely behind, but not without bestowing their own parting bat-glares upon his team as they go.   
Great, so his plan was to be all threatening and shit and then leave me here with them, stuck under a sleeping Tim.   
“That, was scary” Tony says quietly, his eyes wide as he slowly approaches me and Tim, flopping down into a chair placed close to the couch.   
“We aren’t, you know, going to turn our backs on him, or let him get hurt. He’s a part of our team” Tony says after a few minutes, after everyone else has also taken their seats.   
“I didn’t think you would, no matter how much I can’t stand all of you, you are a part of Tim’s team, you are his people, and he wouldn’t have chosen disloyal assholes, he’s too good a judge of character for that to happen.” I tell them.   
“Why can’t you stand us?” Tim asks, obviously annoyed by my comment.   
“You are nosy, and you talk too much, and you whine, you worry about things that you don’t need to, you don’t know when to shut the fuck up, whether it’s for your own good or someone else’s. You can’t seem to put aside your personal issues for the well being of a case or a fight. You are rude to him more often than not, underestimating his abilities on a daily basis, which is mostly his fault, but you don’t need to be an asshole about it. You work well together until there is any type of infighting, and you seem to think that personal and business need to overlap at every turn, and that everything happening in Tim’s life should be accessible to you. Basically, I think you’re all assholes, but Tim likes you, trusts you, has different perspectives and reasons for why you all are the way that you are. So i’m letting it go, unless you hurt him, at which point I will break every fucking bone in your body and leave you to suffer in a dirty alleyway somewhere.” I explain calmly and coolly.   
“Jeez, overprotective much” Tony says, only proving my point.   
“He’s my baby brother, and I might have denied it a few years ago, but it’s the truth. He’s been through too much shit already, and if any of you even think of putting him through more, i’ll fucking kill you. Cop or not.” I growl, finally shutting Tony up and grinning a shark-like grin his way, causing his eyes to widen.   
“Now fucking scram, find someplace to sleep, I need some fucking rest” I tell them, knowing that I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, but wanting them to leave so that I can at least relax a little, without worrying about whatever question they are going to ask next.   
I drop my head back to Tim’s shoulder when they finally all leave the room, letting out a deep sigh as I close my eyes. 

Tim begins to stir early the next morning, groaning as he moves his leg and his injured thigh hits against the edge of the couch.   
“Be careful” I mutter, making his eyes widen, turning his head slowly to look at me.   
“The hell?” he asks quietly   
“You had a nightmare, you were gonna hurt yourself with your thrashing, I had to pin you down. You apparently got attached, cause’ you started to freak out when I tried to leave” I tell him, keeping my voice soft, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the apartment.   
He just nods, slowly sitting up, giving me the opportunity to slide out from underneath him and readjust, throwing my legs off the side of the couch and leaning against the back, arching my back and almost groaning when it cracks about 7 times, unhappy with staying sitting up against the side of the couch all night.   
“Sorry” Tim mutters when he hears my bones crackling.   
“It’s fine” I answer, surprised to find that I mean it.   
“Was dad here last night?” he asks after a few moments of comfortable silence.   
“Yeah, him and the boys stopped by to check on you and to tell us that they got the hit cancelled” I tell him, pushing back the desire to lie to him about last night.   
“What happened?” he asks warily.   
“Nothing too bad, your team knows that you are the son of Batman and the brother of Nightwing, Robin, and me, although they don’t know who I moonlight as. Dad threatened them and then left, and then I threatened them and made them leave, at least leave the living room. Don’t worry though, they seem pretty okay with everything, I would say, all in all, they aren’t complete shit.” I tell him in romanian, not wanting any eavesdroppers to be able to discern what we are saying.   
“Thanks Jase” he murmurs, a smile on his face despite him being not so happy about us threatening his team, although he should have expected that to happen at some point.   
“Anytime. Now, i’m gonna go make some breakfast, i’m fuckin hungry.” I tell him, grinning over at him before I push myself up, stretching once more before I reach down to pull him to his feet as well, pushing him into a stool at the island before I begin cooking.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? good? bad? meh? lemme know what you think. :)


End file.
